Dreamland

Gollum, who was a trash compactor for food, turned to her, bobbing her head. “Yeah, okay,” she said. Then, as if sensing another meaning behind Kate’s words, her eyes widened. “Okaaaay,” she said, drawing out the word. “Yeah. Great idea. Then Dea and Co

Kate jogged the keys in her hand. “We’ll be back in less than an hour,” she said. “No need for good-byes just yet.”

But Gollum still squeezed Dea tightly, as if worried she might vanish. Her hair smelled like mint. “Be careful anyway,” she whispered. Then she followed Kate outside. Before shutting the door, Kate shot Dea another cryptic look.

For a moment, she and Co

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “For dragging you into this. For making such a mess.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize.”

“I want to,” she said. “I need to. I—”

“Dea.” The way he said her name—as if it hurt, almost—made her shut up. And before she could respond or ask him what was wrong, he crossed the distance between them, took her face in both hands, and kissed her.

For a split second, Dea froze, terrified that if she moved at all, this wouldn’t be true, he wouldn’t be true, and the moment—Co

It was different, and better, than anything she’d imagined.

It was perfect.

Then it was over. He pulled away. But she felt no sadness—only a sense of lightness and floating. He kept his hands on her face, his thumbs warm against her cheeks.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he said.

“Me too,” Dea said. This was where she belonged: not a dream-place of monsters and wars, but with Co

He smiled huge, a smile she hadn’t seen from him in a long time. No one had ever looked at Dea like that, as if she was an unexpected present, and it made her feel happy and different and more. She wanted desperately to kiss him again.

“I thought I might never see you again,” he whispered.

“I’m here.” She nearly told him she loved him; the urge to confess it was overwhelming. Instead, she found his hand and interlaced their fingers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Co

“What will you do, Dea?” he asked quietly. “Where will you go? If your mom doesn’t come back—”

“She’s not coming back,” Dea said. All at once, the reality of what she had decided—the impossibility of it—hit her. She couldn’t stay with Co

Co

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said quietly. And then, in a rush: “We could run away. We could get in the car and just keep driving.”

Dea let herself imagine it: escaping with Co

“My mom spent all of her life ru

Co

“Roach?” Dea said.

“My uncle.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Old football nickname.”

Dea felt a small chill run through her. She thought of walking Co

“Are you . . . are you close to your uncle?” Dea asked carefully.

Co

“I know,” she said quickly. “That isn’t what I meant.”

Co

She had that same creeping cold sensation. Someone must be walking over your grave. She remembered that expression, suddenly, from her short time in Nashville, Te

Co

Something was skirting the edges of Dea’s consciousness, an idea or association. It was like reaching for an object in dark, slick water: every time she seized the co

“He’s not a bad guy,” Co

“Just what?”

“I don’t know.” For a second, he looked troubled, and Dea wondered whether somewhere deep in that ocean of unconsciousness, the tidal spit of memories and dreams, he was seeing something he had learned to ignore. “He just wants what he wants. He fixates on things, you know? Right now, he’s fixated on catching your mom. He thinks he can get to her through you.”

“He thinks wrong,” Dea said.

“I told you, I’m on your side,” Co

“The truth is hard,” Dea said, reflexively parroting back what Kate had said to her. “But the lies are worse.”

“Are they?” When Co

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I think so.” She thought about what she knew now: about her mother and father, about where she’d come from, about the city with its pickers and slaves and giant beasts yoked into service. It was terrible—but better than not knowing. Better because she could try to understand. “It’s like . . . if you had to fight someone, it’s better to know what you’re getting into. Even if you still have to fight—if you know, you can do it with your eyes open.”